dolce far niente
by Chloe6
Summary: Finished Plz R
1. uno

Disclaimer: Don't own em, Mr. Wolf does.

Authors Note: This is a bit of a break from Ambiance. I hope it's ok. PLZ R & R, pretty PLZ!!! 

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** _'dolce far niente' ~ (ital.) sweet idleness _**

_She looked at me, the lustre of her brown eyes dissipating my train of thought into nothingness, as she ran across the road and into swallowing ebony of the night, signaling her goodbye with a brief wave of one hand and a grin. The most gorgeous grin. Her eyes ran from my face to her car, only a few unreachable steps away. It all played in slow motion, and it all hurt. And then the light, that stinging light. It highlighted her face, the crisp fear it had instilled in her eyes, and she froze. She never froze, but this time…this time her instincts drained away. The light blinding her and carrying her away. And then the screaming of the breaks, the thud. And she was on the ground, her back caressing the bitumen. I knelt over her, praying her back to life. But she remained still. A crimson trickle flowed from her forehead, down her cheek and to her ear. I touched it lightly, futilely blessing her forehead back to smooth normality. Trying to wipe the red from her face, but it streamed into her hair, plastering strands to her cheek. The cherry blood fanned out onto the tar. A  merging butterfly of red and black surrounding her. And she was sleeping……………..and I couldn't wake her._

Bobby opened his eyes in alarm, they traced the gleaming blue and white tiles of reality. He leaned his head back and onto the wall behind him. A deep breathe. He dared to shut them again, praying not to see the light. But there it was, chasing him. And the scarlet that was drowning him. "Alex." he murmured, chocking on his breath. A lump held stubborn in his throat, his head burned and his eyes. If he shut them and it would all replay. Open them and the air burned, and the tears flowed.  He took in the room. White walls incased a seemingly infinite hall. He looked down at his hands clutching an empty coffee cup. Her blood, trapped under his cuticles. And it all rushed at him again, the light, the red, the cold. His white shirt stained, his jacket?? He shook with fear, a rush of cold adrenaline.  He looked around again, a different woman, maybe older, hid behind the reception desk, busying herself with the sallow lilies on the table.  Ignoring him with an arrogant blatancy.  He narrowed his eyes to her, struggling to hold the gaze in fatigue. 

"Yes?" Her voice was austere. A third bitter, third condescending and third perturbed. She wanted to shed his glance. "Well, can I help you?" She stood strong, trying to prove her superiority. Greyish hair trapped in a tight bun, a face stern with age and plainness. And she knew it, the thick makeup trying to hide her real exterior. 

Every word burned his throat. "My partner, she was brought in here about…" he searched his watch for the time, but he struggled to process it. "…about 7 hours ago.."

"And you would be Mr. Eames?"

"No. Robert Goren." He replied as he shook his head, rubbing a hand through his dark hair frustration. "Look.." He began, only to be cut off by her coarse voice.

"But she's your partner?" She said, insinuating his irrelevance. 

"Yes." Bobby replied, hiding behind the lie. It was really only a half-truth.

"She's in recovery."

He closed his eyes in relief, and the light was fainter. "I need to see her. I've been here 7 hours. The last nurse…she said…she said I could see her when she was out of theater."

She stood stern, pursing her lips in defiance. "I'm sorry sir. She's resting."

He stood up in frustration, burying his head in his hands. "Just…" He raised his hand in insolence, "just…a second. I'm not going to wake her, I just want to see her." He paused, throwing his head back in frustration. "Look, I'm just asking for a second." Pleading with his eyes.

The matron set down her prized lilies, and began to tap her fingers along the desk in a constant motion. Her nose screwed in disapproval, her eyes stern and annoyed. "Fine, just wait for a ward nurse to take you in."

Another twenty minutes passed, Bobby sat still in the chair, hunched over, his hands together between his knees. His eyes barely open, he could see the image of a lady striding furiously down the hallway. Her shoes clacking in a fast beat on the chilling tiles. The repetitive clacking stung at his ears, until the feet stopped before him. He looked up; a young woman greeted him with a sympathetic smile. Short and plump, with long black hair and a warm face. 

"Robert…uh…Goren?"

"Yes." He croaked.

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She lay still on the bed. The blood was gone and her face was almost the crisp white of the pure sheets. An entanglement of plastic tubes ran from her arms. He sat down next to her, enveloping her cheek in his hand. The warmth of her skin flowed to his touch, igniting hope. He bit his lip, forcing the swelling tears into submission. He traced bruises down her arm, and picked up her hand. Smiling at its delicacy, he cautiously traced his fingers up and down her palm. He looked around the room, cold and vague. The streams of light from above seemed to hang heavy in the air, the shut curtains clouding any natural illumination. The smell of hospital and disinfectant languished in the air and the quietness was overwhelming. The ciaos was only ephemeral circumstance, but was still vivid in his mind.    

"She has a three cracked ribs." 

Bobby's head flew up in alarm. His mind had become absent to the presence of other people. He nodded, drawing his eyes away from Alex for only a second. "And, uh…she hemorrhaged internally?" His words were distorted with emotion.

"Yes. But she is very strong." 

He didn't look back. 'very strong' Then why did he fear breaking her with every touch?  


	2. due

**Disclaimer:** There not mine, Dick Wolf and co. own em. It's a nice thought though, me rich!

**Authors Note:** Here's a small chappie. I just wanna thank everyone for the brilliant reviews, I never imagined such a great response. You are all legends. Oh bout the matrons, etc. etc. I'm sorry Daf9, I can only write what I know. I wasn't aware Americans scrapped those terms. Ok, now this may head in a shippy direction, god save, I don't think I'm in control of the story anymore. Rather, it controls me.  Thanks to Brandy for all her help and kindness!

**Please Read & Review**. And if you want more, tell! ;) 

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**_'_****_dolce far niente' ….. chapter 2_**

_She just lay there; it was almost like nothing had happened. Like nothing had changed. As if no machines were forcing her breath or holding her heart in rhythm. For a second the purple blemishes on her skin weren't just hidden by an ivory sheet, they never existed. And her chocolate eyes might emerge and immerse me. And she would smile, radiantly, if only to scatter my fear. And return my grasp and tell me I never had to worry because she promises she will never leave me. And for a nanosecond everything would return to normal. The thought that it might not is intolerable. And if I cannot have the past then I hope that this moment will remain infinitely entrenched in my mind._

"Sir. I think its time you made your way home." Goren turned to see the woman. Her arms aloft, signaling his surplus presence, trying to persuade him through the door.  

"A minute." He replied, brushing his fingers across her milky cheek a last time. Then enfolding her slight hand in his, as he leant over and placed a kiss on her forehead. He bit his lip. "Night Alex." Picking up his jacket he walked from the room, feeling her presence drain away with every step. He didn't want to walk away, he had left something of himself with her. 

"Do you need to call a cab?" She enquired.

"Huh." 

"A cab?" 

His despondence was obvious, his grasp from reality was slipping, but he held his composure. "No, I will be fine. Thank you."

"She will be alright."  

He didn't answer; he knew what she said held little substance. He learnt young that false hope could destroy valid optimism. He smiled politely. Striding to the elevator with haste, attempting to escape the dismal atmosphere that was suffocating him. 

His eyes met the bitter air, watering at the impact. Bobby took a deep breath, relishing the crisp smell of nothingness. His eyes watched his breath hanging in the air, dissolving into nonentity. The lightness of it all was dreamlike. No harsh metallic smell of car and blood, no fumes of disinfectant and the cheap scent employed to mask it. Light was absent, except for the illumination of street lamps on the grey path and occasional car beams, hazy through the fog. He walked to his car, his eyes following his feet, his hands hung limp in his pockets. Every thought centered on her and he knew every attempt to change the subject would be in vain. He needed her more than he could ever have fathomed. He had become complacent about her presence, its value masked by the monotonousness of his lifestyle. Hell, it had only taken him a year to fall in love with a woman and become nonchalant about her company. And he had never been conscious to it, she was always there and he knew of nothing else. He possessed an eye for extreme detail but couldn't see the blatant love he had for her. 

As Bobby walked through the streets, concrete giants on either side peering down, overwhelming his figure, he was almost too tired to be scared. Almost…

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	3. tre e quattro

**Disclaimer:** Mr. Wolf owns the characters, me just borrowing them.

Thanks to those wonderful reviewers!! You make my day! And brandy for her help.  Bobby's thoughts are in **bold** as I cant get the usual italics to work.

PLZ read & review. 

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He opened the door to his flat, walking inside and into the comforts of routine. It seemed so surreal, everything as he left it, an alternate universe to the chaos that had been so defining. He walked to his bathroom, and undressed. Fatigue slowed every movement, even the simplest. He looked into the mirror, his weight draining through his arms onto the basin as focused hard with his heavy eyes. Her blood blurred the image, a decisive stain on his upper cheek. He rubbed at the crimson smudge with his hand then pulled away in self-revulsion. Stepping into the shower, needles of hot water stabbing at his skin. He leaned his back onto the harsh cold of the blue tiles, closing his eyes and drifting into a momentary repose. 

** The familiar luminous burned holes in the image, highlighting and hindering. I could still see it, a broken record replaying on the impact of my eyelids, accentuating the moment, the suffering. I could see her now, never moving, a perpetual moment playing in seconds, the blur of life continuing unperturbed by our presence at a speed that defied normality. She didn't stir, but remained in an innate sleep; her chest still rose and fell. I touched her, surrounded in anarchic background of faces and sensation, but she didn't move. Her scars were gone; the blood still lay discarded on the tar around her but was free from her skin. She was in a limbo between life and something surreal, a defining peace that was never appreciated. **

His eyes snapped open. He was crimson from the intense heat of the shower but numb from emotion. The stinging suddenly revived its presence, his eyes uncovering grazed knees from the tar. He shut his eyes, he hurt everywhere, if not emotionally his physical scars appeared. He drained his thoughts in a wash of hot stem and water, rubbing his hands against his weary head in despair. Water trickled down his head, broad shoulders and chest; reliving a minuet amount of tenderness. Eventually he became aware of the thinking steam of the room clinging to the walls. He got out, and climbed into bed. He pulled a sheet over his naked shoulder gently, clasping it tightly in his now ivory knuckles with what strength he had left. The droning sounds of a CD filled the superficial exterior of the mood, the beat burning a repetitious tune in his mind. But it drowned out the sounds, the record in his head. He didn't shut his eyes, instead following they concentrated on the furrows of the carpet.

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Bobby opened his eyes slowly, the image of the darkened room infusing his eyes gradually. Shadows darkening the image, he could barely see the clocks image. The artificial green luminous spelt 9:14am. He rolled back, tossing his head back onto the pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Thinking about her, lying like him, only he was aware. That was the only difference. He quickly dressed in jeans and a jacket. He wasn't worried about warmth; he no longer felt direct concern for himself. Only her. He was losing the feeling of life, his vitality had gone, substituted with worry and fear.  He hadn't eaten for a day, but the sensation of hunger had never appeared. He told himself he would eat if it returned. He wandered in indifference around his apartment, the meticulous order of it perplexing. He jogged down the steps and to his car, laving his world behind, its significance diminishing with every thought of her. 

The pungent smell of the hospital suspended heavily in his head, dizzying his thoughts. The surrounds where alive, people darting back and forth nonchalantly brushing others aside. He entered her room, the tranquility and innocence returned as he caught the image of her. The nurse busied herself with evaluations until she noticed Bobby's presence. She smiled brightly.

"She's improving rapidly." She said glancing up.

Bobby nodded, approaching her eagerly. Hands in his pockets, little expression on his face as he took a deep breath and eased himself into the chair next to her. He leaned his weight forward, arching his back slightly over her. The repetitive beeping of machines, an exasperation of the stillness, but his mind was ignoring it, transfixed solely on her face. Pure and radiant, she engulfed his mind as he observed her life. That was all he could do. He held her hand, and gently brushed it against his cheek. Still warm, its heat radiating through his skin and into his veins. A sign of life that refused to diminish. He wiped her blonde hair from her forehead, and feeling its softness was compelled to gently brush his lips just above her eyes. He smiled as he drew back. She was still there, still with him, and she was getting recovering. He could see it in her warm cheeks, her cherry lips. She would never leave him; her determination could defy the obligatory. 

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**Hours had passed; there seems no relative for time. In a bleak world of simulated light, artificial air and an imitation existence it is superfluous. Things don't change here, not in hours, not in days or months or years. They seem perpetual and it's perceived as a mere miracle if defiance occurs. The only reality is her, the only thing existing in purpose. I close my eyes and I still see it. The light, the brightness, the luminous. Scarring my retina with permanence, fueling an already wild burning insomnia. I tickle her fingers, but a response doesn't come. Instead I place her hand back on her chest, lightly kiss her forehead, whispering my love and goodnights before I begin to put on my coat. **

"Bobby." The voice is muffled, but undeniable. "Don't leave me."

"Alex?" He looked at her, her eyes barely open but he could just make out the sparkle. A small flinch of her mouth, she was resistant to talk. But she was awake. 

"I. I wont. Don't worry." He said, brushing her hand against his chin. She shut her eyes, and strains a deep breath. 

"I did it this time, didn't I, Bobby?" She half smirks, but a painful frown rapidly overwhelms her. He can see her hurting, every expression details it further.

He places a finger gently over her lips, ushering her silence. He smiles, moving his hand onto the warmth of her cheek. He leans over gently, an arm bridging across her body, the other cupping her cheek, he leans into her and gently kisses her lips. She watches him intently with her brown eyes, as he brushes his mouth to hers, not flinching once. The electricity and warmth is insurmountable, and the pain and hurt drown into oblivion. He gently pulls back, a smile evident in his intense eyes. He strokes her head gently, she feels the comfort, the slight tickle, and relaxes into his hand. She shuts her eyes till he speaks again.

"Alex, I never knew it, but I love you more than you can ever imagine."

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???should there be more???


	4. cinque

**Disclaimer:** Writing this gets tiresome, but I don't own the characters.

**Authors Notes:** Thanks for all the magnificent reviews; you're so very wonderful. Thanks times infinity.  

**cinque **

**His hand caressed my cheek, so I snuggled into it. Encouraging a brief smile that barely hung to his dimples for a second. He still worried. His eyes never left my face, as he lightly tickled my cheeks or ran his fingers faintly through my hair.  He smiled when I did and talked when I tried to. And he stayed with me for hours and days, his gaze never leaving my face. I doubt it did when I was asleep. He stayed as long as he could, till the nurse's faces became cold as ice. Till one of them threatened to hit him with the broomstick. He didn't go to work regularly. When I questioned him he whispered that Deakin's understood. And that it didn't matter, he needed me more than New York needed him. He would place a kiss on my forehead when he arrived and before he left, gently cementing it with a slight brush of his thumb. And when he would leave, my heart would sink. And that's when I realised it, that I returned his love, and my heart was becoming more and more dependant on him, every second. **

And now she would leave, be emancipated from this suffering environment that was suffocating her spirit. Have the liberty to walk away from the reminders of her affliction and return her focus to her life, to her work and maybe him.

He smiled as her gaze shifted from the window to his eyes. 

"One day left." Alex said with a slight grin.

He nodded, stroking some hair from her eyes as he sat on the bed, gently leaning over her. "You have to take it easy." He said, his concern hung heavy in his voice.

She raised her eyebrows at his statement. She wriggled into a more comfortable position, lowering her weight into the sheets and her gaze into his eyes. 

He picked up her hand and held it on his lap, covering it in his own. He snuck a quick peak at his watch. 7:30. She looked up. "Are you going?" 

He shook his head. "I just wanted to see how long I've got until that nurse turns up with her broom."

She grinned until a stabbing pain in her chest punished her. A sharp intense pain that she covered with a slight wince. 

He frowned, lowering his brow just slightly and tilting his head down, just till slight shadows met his concern. He brushed his hand through her hair, its mere lightness intriguing his fingertips as he tried to reassure her. "I don't want to go." He chewed his lip, directing his gaze away from her for just a second, denying inevitability. 

"I don't think you get a choice." She swallowed hard, as the pain discovered itself again. 

He nodded, pausing in his eyes brightening as they discovered the room. 

**Sharp rays of light filtered through the partings of the curtains, flowing yet stagnant, providing a dreamy emergence for the thousands on dust particles idle in the air. Tiresome beige walls desired to stultify the mood were camouflaged in lush vermilions, ivories and jades of the flowers. White sheets crumpled in emotional urgency and pungent aromas of disinfectant, cold metal and blossom condensed the air. She lay comfortable yet anxious, blending into the sheets the encompassed her.**

The last while had remained a perpetual moment exclusively theirs. A moment in time, in space, in a reality that wouldn't always exist, and almost didn't. One of the million that grew seemingly trivial with every generation, sometimes only ever restored in a second of thought provocation, a wild contemplation of loss and value. And he could hold these memories forever, and it would never fade from his mind. Why must it be any less real in the future or past than present? He can perceive her ashen face, her smell, and her heat. Sense the radiating warmth of her presence and tangible glow exuding from her smile, then she will remain forever. A thousand small memories, each of immense significance and together a history defined. If a second could delineate life, create the future, redefine the past, and make people consider the present, it could remain forever, longer than a life, longer than life itself and never diminish in its luminescence or torture. 

He returned his eyes to hers and smiled, embracing her face in his mind. He bit his lip and whispered, as he saw the nurse pass by the door.  "Thank you for being okay?" 

She tugged at his jacket and pulled his head down hers, her lips embracing his forehead. And she whispered with a slight grin. "Like I had a choice."


	5. sei e ha finito

**Disclaimer:** Don't own em, lol, it's a nice thought

**Authors Notes:** Thanks to everyone who has reviewed in the past, it's completed! CHEERS

Plz R&R, double plz!! ;)

**sei e ha finito**

**I walked into the wall of bitter cold, its sharpness attempting to numb my face into the blank facade of every other passerby. But she doesn't, she smiles brightly as she senses real air, free of irritants of the mind and soul. She's ivory and elegant, her cheeks crimson and her eyes luminous. She pulls at her jacket, engulfing herself in the wool and walks in a watchful haste. I grasp her waist and lightly hold her secure. She smiles vibrantly and tells me to knock it off. But I don't, and in a second she is insecure and her arm is draped around my shoulder while we tread slowly to the car. She winces every second step and hopes I don't notice. I ask and she dismisses it, she's too stubborn to go back. She finds contentment as her back caresses the leather and her head falls to the side, and once again mesmerizing me with her chocolate eyes.**

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"Here. Your exhausted." Bobby easily lifts her light frame into his arms, smothering her in his jacket and chest.  He carries her gently across the road; rain lightly trickles from the sky so he runs. The luminous ambers and ocher's melt into steels of the heavens as dusk conquers the light. The suns haze is dampened in the metallic grey of clouds lined in streaking plums, all shining in the presence of a million raindrops. She lies in his arms as he jogs up the few steps and into her apartment. All she can smell is normality, the fragrance of white frangipani and spice. The rich colours of the walls free her breath and ease her head. And the scent of his aftershave as she leaned into him, it would remain hanging in her mind well after it disappeared from reality.

"I'm right." She murmurs and he looks down. A sense of disappointment lies in his eyes, as he gently eases her onto her feet. He still holds her close. 

"Sure?" 

"Yes." She replies, with a slight laugh.

He doesn't let go, holding her back into his chest, his head gently resting at the peak of hers. She smiles as his breath gently tickles her forehead, she can feel his comfort. It flows through his hands as they encircle her body. And its not something that she could ever had foreseen, this was beyond any awkward infatuation reasoned to halter demise, this was a feeling of profound deepness that had been masked in an ideal friendship. She knew him, she could hold him close and never fear him, but she could fear that she could lose him.

They remain for minutes, perpetual moments that time cannot define. He brushes her hair slightly. 

"Something to eat?" He whispers. 

She shakes her head softly. 

"You need some sleep."

She nods. Wrapping her hands around his, she gently breaks away. "I'll be alright. Don't worry." She stops for a second, her eyes embracing the floor. "Night." 

"I'll take the couch?" he asked insistently. 

"Bobby, you haven't slept in days." 

"I will sleep better here." 

Alex nodded reluctantly. "I'll get you a blanket."

"No, no, I can do that. Just get some sleep. Do you need anything?"

"No, its fine, thanks." She gently brushes past him, he can see her pain, the hurt seems crushing. It's lies in her eyes, glistening with the swelling pain. She clutches the pain killers from the table in her pale hand and walks to the bedroom.

"Alex?"

She turns back, her haste to lie down is obvious. "I'm fine. I just need sleep."

His concern is overwhelming, but he can't help her. She just wants to lie in her bed tonight, to feel the comforts that she has been denied, to feel at rest, untainted and serene. Like nothing has changed, that he was still Goren.

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**_I can hear her, a crying muffled by the walls. A soft realisation of pain that stirs my mind from sleep. Her lying there lost in the complexities of her own personal affliction, the memories are traced in silver scars across her body. And they will never fade. I gently open the door, a dusky darkness is unchanged.  She tries to purge her tears on hearing my entry, but does not say anything. She lies still on the bed, crumpled awkwardly in the intensity of pain. Her eyes follow me as I approach the bed, shimmering highlights of sensation in the engulfing dark. I sit down next to her, combing a hand through her hair. She mumbles she's sorry then looks at me, her face disenchanted. I gently brush my lips to her forehead, the heat caressing my feeling, and envelop her cheek in my hand, slight tears of sting lie at her eyes. I whisper that I love her, and she swallows and nods.  She pulls me down into the sheets and wraps her arms around me, dark shadows fall like silhouettes upon us. Her breathing intensifies as the tears return; I stroke her head and pull her into my chest. I can feel her breath, her heat, the ceaselessly rhythm of her heart. She doesn't let go, falling asleep and I listen to her softening breath. The continual smoothness of the rise and fall of her chest. Her comfort and peace against me. And as I close my eyes the light still haunts me, it may infinitely, but she lies alive in my arms and that's all that must remain._**

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**Finito**


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